No More
by Driftingthought
Summary: After the events of the boat explotion in "Endgame," a surviving Amon muses over where he's been, how he's gotten to this point, and where he's going next. One-shot.


**A/N: This story was written just before the opening of the Legend of Korra, season 2. I was always hoping that Amon would survive the explosion, and this was my take on the events and thoughts that would've been running through his head during that time. Rated K+ for character death.**

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No More

Pain. It was the first thing Amon felt when he opened his eyes, finding himself underwater after the boat explosion. Consciousness brought back with it realization and memories: Tarrlok had tried to kill him only seconds earlier. In fact, if there hadn't been water surrounding the boat, Tarrlok's murder attempt would've been a success: Amon would've burned to death. It was a miracle he was still alive, though his body was damaged so badly that his injuries rendered him immobile.

But now, his wounds weren't his biggest concern. Amon was underwater, practically drowning, and if he didn't do something fast, he would die full-well knowing that lifesaving air was only a few feet above him. He had to save himself, but Waterbending without the use of any movement whatsoever was incredibly difficult, even for someone as skilled as him.

As soon as these thoughts left him, Amon laughed at his own foolishness. Why was he worried? He was a Waterbender. This was _his_ element. And just as he could Bloodbend and Waterbend, so also could he heal himself through his element of skill.

He had learned how to heal while still living in the Northen Water Tribe. After spraining his leg while playing with Tarrlok, a friend of his mother's had offered to heal the leg for him. Amon had been distrusting of the strange woman at first, but her method proved successful. Amon had been amazed when he'd gotten up, able to run around on the same leg that he'd previously been limping on.

Since Amon himself was also a Waterbender, he begged his father to allow him to learn how to heal. His father prohibited Amon's learning such a "weak" and "useless" skill, but his mother thought otherwise. Despite his father's disgust of such a talent, his mother arranged secret meetings with her friend so that Amon could learn from her. After only a week of practice, he was healing Tarrlok's cuts and scrapes yet making sure their father new nothing of his skill.

Back in his childhood days, healing had been an interesting, new form of Waterbending, but now this skill would save his life. Unable to breathe in as he normally did whenever he healed an injury, Amon chose to close his eyes to heighten his concentration. Seconds later, Amon felt a warm aura spreading through his body, healing the worst of his injuries and leaving the less critical wounds for later when he had more time.

Now healed enough to allow movement, Amon clenched his fists and shot upward toward the surface of the water. He had almost broke the surface when a shadow in the water made him pause. A gatorshark? Though well enough to Waterbend, Amon still wasn't healed enough to take on such a fierce predator. And where one gatorshark was, plenty more were sure to arrive. The scent of his blood in the water would bring those animals in droves.

Using Waterbending to clear the water, Amon saw that the shadow in the water wasn't an animal at all. There in the water, floating limply and steadily descending, was his brother Tarrlok. Blinking to make sure the water wasn't playing tricks on him, Amon propelled himself toward his brother. He placed Tarrlok's arm around his shoulder and sped toward the surface, now even more desperate for air than before. After only a moment, he broke through surface of the water, coughing and taking in gulps of fresh, pure air.

Amon surveyed his surroundings. The boat behind him was completely destroyed, but not a mile off from his current position stood an island. Taking another breath of air, Amon struck out for land, moving slower than normal due to his wounds and extra passenger.

The water was cold, and though Amon had lived in the Northern Water Tribe until he reached teenage years, the temperature chilled him to the bone; he had never sustained such horrible injuries and then been forced to remain so long in water so cold. Seeing a cloud form from his exhalation of breath, Amon pushed away his physical needs and allowed himself to be consumed by thought so he could ignore the pain.

The boat explosion. That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up underwater. But why had Tarrlok done it, and moreover, why was he trying to rescue the person who had nearly killed him? Surely this hadn't been Tarrlok's original motive. No, of course not. A brother wouldn't try to kill a brother. That Avatar girl had somehow talked to and changed him, just as she changed anyone she came into contact with. _She_ had turned his own brother against him, forced Tarrlok to almost be guilty of murder. She was the reason he was now swimming through frigid water toward an island with no name.

Amon was concentrating so hard on his Waterbending movements that he didn't even realize he'd made it to the island until his feet touched ground. He straightened up and walked onto the island, limping due to the injuries he hadn't yet healed. He let Tarrlok slip from his shoulders and hit the earth. Amon looked at Tarrlok once, then turned away. Perhaps it'd been the way Tarrlok's body moved through the water as Amon carried him that first made Amon realize the truth. Or maybe it was a simple fact that Amon had known the instant he saw Tarrlok floating in the water, but a fact that he had ignored until this very moment.

Tarrlok was dead. Either the explosion had killed him instantly, or he had drowned soon thereafter. In the end, it didn't really matter. Amon had lost a brother, and a pawn. When that Avatar girl had bested him, Amon realized that he couldn't work alone. He needed an ally. A partner. A Tarrlok. He'd planned to teach Tarrlok the final stages of Waterbending and have Tarrlok learn the special psychic Bloodbending technique that Amon had been able to learn at the age of fourteen. With another person by his side, he couldn't fail.

But this dream had vanished just as quickly as the boat had exploded. Amon clenched his fists together in rage, seeing the water around him twist and writhe in a physical manifestation of his emotions. That Avatar girl was the source of all his hardship and pain! She had foiled his plan for equalization and had nearly gotten him killed through Tarrlok.

Amon took a breath and calmed himself. All was not lost. She was the Avatar, but she was also a child. Children were naive and stupid. And just as quickly as Amon's former plan dissolved, so he started forming a new plan. His dream for equalization was gone, but in its place was something better. A plan that, in time, could not fail.

All who knew of the Avatar also knew of the incredible power she carried in the form of the Avatar State. Triggered by intense emotion, this immeasurable power also carried with it incredible danger. If the Avatar happened to be killed in this form, the Avatar's line would cease to exist.

The companions the Avatar surrounded herself with would be her downfall. She formed friendships with people because of a mutual trust and understanding, but Amon knew she also kept people near her for protection. She feared him. And little did she know that the people who guarded her would be the very ones who ended her life and her Avatar line. Kidnapping or putting even one of her friends in harm's way could force her into the Avatar State. And once Amon struck, she and all the Avatars that came before her would be dead. Once the Avatar was gone, Amon would have no equal. This time he would rule not through persuasion, but through coercion and Bloodbending.

Amon glanced over his shoulder at Tarrlok. Before now, Amon had been holding back the tide. Now he allowed the water to engulf his brother's body, carrying him into the sea and beyond. He watched Tarrlok's body just long enough to see his brother being swallowed up by the sea. Then Amon faced forward. This was not the time for a proper Water Tribe burial; this was a time for planning and action. He would look to the past no more.

The future stretched before him, as wide as the sea and sky. Now that Tarrlok was dead, Amon had no reminder of his previous life and former name. He would soon rule, and the Avatar would be like a memory to those who supported and trusted her. Yes, his equalization plan was ruined. Yes, his brother was dead, and yes, he'd nearly been killed by an explosion.

Yet through it all, Amon smiled. He had one plan, and one plan only.

Eliminate the Avatar.

The End


End file.
